The God of Lies
by ScarletTigress
Summary: Loki's plot to reveal Thor's immaturity and arrogance will be flawless as long as Heimdall, Guardian of Worlds, remains ignorant of his scheming. Unfortunately, Heimdall is immune to lies and the Lord of Mischeif is forced to come to terms with the truth.


Loki licked his lips, concentrating on the weave before him. The magic was strong and wild, it's energies slippery and unstable, but his spell still held. The magical weave was strong enough to bind the cosmic power, but still flexible enough to move as magic must to retain its potency. It was not as strong as the bifrost and not nearly so predictable, but it would hold. The weave would support one traveler to one destination, without appreciable lost time. It was a fantastic achievement, one only the best sorcerers of Asgard would ever dare. Well, Loki _was_ the best and dare he would.

What was the risk of gruesome, anonymous death compared to the chance of wiping that self satisfied, arrogant smirk off of his brother's stupid face? That prize alone was worth the toil and truly, Asgard could not afford Thor as King. His brother was strong and popular, well liked by all...but he was also rash, vain and dangerously naive. Thor believed himself to be totally invincible, but he did not seem to understand that _Asgard_ was not! His elder brother had no appreciation for how utterly dependent Asgard was upon the might and wisdom of her king. Thousands of years of peace and prosperity had lulled the Asgardians into a dangerous complacency and the people were far too confident in their own omnipotence, but Loki knew the truth. Yes, the so called God of Lies knew that Odin feared the peace between worlds was fragile at best, knew that Asgard's enemies were far from vanquished. His father's concern was enough for him, but Thor mocked the All Father's worries. It made Loki furious.

Thor loved deeply, Loki knew that, but love was no substitute for humility. If Loki managed to make it all the way to Yodenheim without the gate shredding him into a billion radioactive ions, no one would ever know of his accomplishment. There would be no laurels, no glory, but Odin's eyes would be opened once and for all to the arrogance of his eldest son. Humility was a powerful thing when wielded by one unafraid of sacrifice. Loki barely had to do more than open his gate and let the frost giants blunder their way in and to their deaths. Thor, in his childish pride, would see to the rest. Still, the plan was not without it's difficulties, the most paramount of which was getting the damn gate to open at _all_.

Loki's pathway, small though it was, could still attract the Guardian's notice if placed in close proximity to the Bifrost. Unfortunately, an inter-world gate cannot just be thrown down anywhere and the Bifrost was already occupying the most energetically favorable location...Loki had no choice but to try and build his gate as close to the bifrost as he could. He may be humble, but not suicidal. Thus, there he lay in the middle of the night, hanging mostly upside down over the Rainbow bridge, tinkering with enough volatile energy to completely vaporize half the city. Just a few more adjustments and the judicial application of a small amount of anti-matter and all would be ready...

So intent was the prince upon his work that he never heard the faint hiss of armored boots until they were practically standing above his head. With a silent curse, Loki swung his legs to the side and scrambled up onto the bridge to meet the menacing gaze of Heimdall, Guardian of Worlds.

"Loki Odin-son, why am I not surprised." Heimdall rumbled, his penetrating amber eyes filled with suspicion.

"Perhaps you weren't, but I certainly was! I was so absorbed in observing the solar flares in the crown nebula below that I never even heard you!" Loki exclaimed, his face a mask of innocence.

"You were...observing a nebula? At this hour...and without any instruments?" Heimdall asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's incredible! You don't even NEED instruments to see the event!"

"Truly? Pity all of Asgard's finest astrologists seem to have missed it. I would think such a display would have drawn them from the towers...even at this hour." Heimdall mused, his all-seeing eyes searching the air around Loki as if goblins might jump from the prince's shadow at any moment.

"Well, their readings are not as accurate as mine. Asgard's finest are convinced the flares will be visible _tomorrow_ night, but after I tell them..." Heimdall rolled his eyes.

"Enough lies, Loki. Tell me what it is you are really doing or I will hail Odin to see if the absence of his youngest son in the middle of the night concerns him." Heimdall said, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

"Perhaps, you should look for yourself? The event is due to continue for at least another few..." Loki offered confidently, sure that Heimdall would refuse. Heimdall raised an eyebrow.

"Loki, I do not need to hang over this bridge and risk falling into space to know that the Crown nebula is not doing anything tonight."

"Heimdall, I assure you..."

"The truth Loki, _now_."

"I...I...Sometimes I wonder what the stars look like from other realms." Loki whispered, near panic.

Loki had not meant to say those words, not when a thousand other golden lies were only a breath from his tongue. Regardless, the strange truth seemed to slip from his lips without any regard for his mind at all. The very worst part of it was that is _was_ true...every word. Unnerved, Loki tried to school his expression as Heimdall's dark scowl softened into a look of wary curiosity.

"Oh? You never studied the stars when you visited Earth or the other realms?" Heimdall asked.

"N...No."

Loki's mind seemed frozen, trapped in amber like a hapless spider. Heimdall's amber gaze pierced him, searching for secrets just as the Guardian searched for travelers on faraway worlds. Loki swallowed hard and wet his lips with his tongue. Heimdall's gaze followed the gesture with almost predatory interest and Loki's sluggish brain slowly began to thaw. The guardian did not believe his lies any more than Loki himself believed that the sun was really a giant piece of fruit. The magic concealing the gate would not withstand a concentrated probe and if the Guardian began to actually _search_ for it...Loki's plan would be ruined. Thor would be king unless Loki DID something and that was one sacrifice he was not willing to make! Loki could tell that nothing he had to say would sway the gatekeeper, but perhaps a lie was not the only way. He just had to THINK, find some way to...to...a stray thought burned through Loki's mind, filling his belly with ice.

The prince fought hard not to swallow as his mouth suddenly went dry. Heimdall was an old god and like all the ancients his tastes were sure to be...eclectic. He was not sure something so bold, so completely INSANE would ever work, but he was quickly running out of other options.

Loki ran his tongue over the edge of his lip again, experimentally. The gesture was one of his nervous habits anyway and surely could not be recognized as a ploy. The young god watched Heimdall's face intently, trying to read the emotion there. The gatekeeper's face was almost impassive, but deep in his eyes Loki saw it, a spark of something hot and wanting. Heimdall found him attractive.

The thought made Loki's knees weak and the bit of space between himself and the Guardian suddenly seemed far too small. Mastering his fear, Loki raised his head and looked at Heimdall. The trickster held the elder god's gaze though all he wanted to do was drop his eyes and run away. He had NEVER done anything like this before and was not even sure that he could, but the gate was just a few inches below their feet...

"I sometimes wonder what it would be like to see the other realms as you do." Loki whispered.

"I watch people mostly, people waging war or building cities..." Heimdall shrugged. Loki moved closer, his blue eyes steady and bold.

"The people of Earth used to pray to us, did they not?" Loki asked.

"Yes, it is true..." Heiumdall replied, suddenly tempted to step back as Odin's youngest boy crept towards him with all the grace and intent of a water serpent.

"What did they pray for?" Loki whispered, his face only a few inches from Heimdall's own.

"They...They prayed...Humans pray for the usual boons." Heimdall mumbled, lost in the young prince's ice blue eyes.

Truly, he looked nothing at all like Odin, but that only made Loki's strange beauty all the more fascinating. The god of mischief looked like no other being in Asgard, unique in every way. The skin of almost all Asgardians was, regardless of tone, a warm golden hue. The golden beauty of Asgard's people, like the light of a yellow star, had once convinced the primitive humans that they were, indeed, gods. Still, even the mortals of Earth recognized that Loki was different. After all, they had dubbed him a deity of darkness among other things and it was no surprise. The youth's skin was as pale as Earth's moon and shone with a cold, silver light as if kissed by the very stars. Loki's features, too, were sharp and aquiline, as strange and elegant as the arctic azure of his eyes. Yet, where his flesh was as fair as porcelain, Loki's hair was such a dark shade of mahogany that it was practically black. Even the lady Sif, known by all for her rare dark-some beauty, was not half so striking as Loki.

"What are the usual boons a human could wish for? Do they long for strength? Peace?" Loki asked, moving to lay a quivering hand against Heimdall's chest.

"No...usually... usually it is love that they pray for..." Hemidall replied, his dark amber eyes wide and startled.

"Love...hmm, that is not so strange is it? After all, even we gods long for love...do we not?" Loki whispered, his lips a breath from Heimdall's own.

"I...I..suppose..." Heimdall stuttered. Loki was so close, too close.

"I wonder, how lonely you must feel so far from the city, watching the loves of others..." Loki said and his blue eyes were almost green with some deeper warmth.

Then his lips, as cool and chaste as a statue's, were upon Heimdall's own. The touch of him was electric, thrilling like nothing the Guardian had felt in an eon or more. With an almost pained sigh, Heimdall wrapped Loki in his arms, reveling in the firm, slender shape of the prince's body. The kiss grew deeper as Heimdall gently nipped at Loki's lips and the youth opened his mouth to accept the invasion. He tasted fresh and chilly, like high mountain air or frost on the ocean, like nothing Heimdall had ever experienced. This skin of Loki's face beneath his fingers was as smooth as marble and just as cool. The prince was tall, even by Asgard standards, but Heimdall was still taller by several inches and Loki had to tip his head up and into the kiss. The angle gave Heimdall a glimpse of the shapely column of Loki's neck, as smooth and pale as cream, as the prince trembled in his arms. By the heavens, Heimdall had never understood how everyone could fawn over Thor when his brother was by far the lovelier.

Loki shivered like an oak leaf in the rain, desperately struggling to control his nerves as Heimdall's lips sent electric tingles shooting into every inch of his flesh. The Guardian's advances were strong and almost aggressive, but also warm and gentle at the same time. Loki had not expected that, had not expected to be held and kissed like something precious. Loki had never seduced anyone before, either with intent or even by mistake and could not believe that it was actually _working_. Women were generally unimpressed with him as he was, by the standards of Asgard, slender and weak. Even Amora, whom he had adored all through his time studying magic at the academy, had fallen in love with Thor instead. Loki was used to working his mischief from a distance, manipulating others from afar, lonely and obsessed with beautiful women who barely noticed him. Never had he thought that anyone, much less _Heimdall_, would want him as much as the Guardian very clearly did. The idea made warmth bloom, unbidden, in his breast with such power that it practically stole his breath. Without even a single conscious thought left to command, Loki wound his arms around Heimdall and molded himself to the Guardian god's muscular body.

Heimdall was no golden Asgardian maiden, but Loki could not deny that he truly was beautiful in a powerful, predatory way. Loki wondered why he had never noticed it before. Heimdall's skin was a dark, rich brown as pure and even as fine ebony, a magnificent contrast to his strange pale amber eyes. The gatekeeper was large and powerfully made, broad of chest and thick with hard, heavy muscle. Despite his great size, Heimdall was far from stout, standing even taller than Loki and moving with almost feline grace. Like one of the great black panthers that stalk the jungles of Earth, Heimdall moved with economy and deadly purpose both when fighting or, as Loki was fast discovering, in passion. His dark skin was like warm satin against Loki's cheek, his hands rough with calluses from wielding his great sword. There was no softness, no feminine charm, but Loki found Heimdall's embrace just as stirring as the kiss of any maid he had ever known. In Heimdall's arms he felt warm, aroused and very vulnerable...even too vulnerable. What had started as a desperate means to distract the Guardian was quickly changing into something so hot, so deep and so primal that it threatened to completely overwhelm him. Loki came back to himself with a start, realizing that he was still just standing on the bridge...or rather not so much standing anymore as wrapped around Heimdall like a ravenous serpent. How had this gotten so out of control? It was just supposed to be a ploy, just another lie...it _was_ still a lie, wasn't it? Wasn't it?

Heimdall felt the younger god stiffen in his arms and opened his eyes to look down into icy blue pools suddenly frozen with fear. Terror chased through Loki's eyes for a bare moment before the pale prince snuffed the emotion from his face as quickly as a human might blow out a candle. Soon, the only emotion Heimdall could see in those strange pale eyes was his own passion reflected back as if from some kind of cursed mirror. Until that moment, Heimdall had given no thought to what the younger god's motivation might be and merely responded to his advances. Now he wondered if he had somehow been deceived. The passion had seemed genuine, but Loki was clearly terrified and the youth was such an adept liar that one could never know when he was speaking the truth. The Guardian studied Loki as he slowly straightened and removed his hands from the younger god's face.

Loki was close to panic, trying to keep the boiling miasma of fear and confusion off of his face as Heimdall's warm hands slipped from his skin. Never had he felt so completely overwhelmed and off balance. Heimdall moved a step away from him, the heat draining from his amber eyes like sand through a sieve. Loki swallowed hard and licked his lips. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard that he fully expected the metal fastenings of his armor to clink with the force of it. Despite the depth of emotion he felt, Loki could not even tell if he was flush with desire or cold with terror. Heimdall surveyed him, his amber eyes confused, suspicious and a bit embarrassed. Loki felt a deep blush creeping up his own face as he dropped his eyes and tried not to look completely foolish. Heimdall's scowl returned to his face like a thunder storm rolling in from the mountains.

"Go home, little Prince." Heimdall rumbled, his voice a dangerous monotone.

Loki fought the urge to fidget as raw hurt welled up inside his chest. He had done something wrong, he must have, and now Heimdall was rejecting him as eveyr other lover had before. That brief moment lost in Heimdall's kiss had been so...so...Loki had no words for the feeling. All he knew was that a wound had been opened in his soul and with the hurt came anger. The prince schooled his expression and stored the pain away to be examined later.

"What of Father, if he were to ask of this night...what would you say?" Loki whispered, his cheeks still hot with both anger and arousal.

"I would tell the King that I found his youngest son upon the bridge, during the deepest part of the night, intent upon hunting tigers...and that I dissuaded him from such a foolish idea." Heimdall growled before turning and walking back to the bifrost.

OoOoOoO

"Loki? You have been shut up in there all day and I grow weary of finding sport in your absence...Are you even ALIVE in there?" Thor roared from the other side of Loki's bedroom door.

"I am unwell, leave me to my peace!" Loki hissed.

"If you are unwell, I should let mother know..." Thor mused.

Loki shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Thor really wasn't as dumb as he often appeared to be and the last thing he needed was mother fussing over him like some colicky babe. With a heavy sigh, Loki dragged himself from beneath the pelts on his bed and cracked open the door. Thor stood with his eyes to the opening, his expression both jovial and impatient.

"Just go away." Loki snarled, but Thor merely smiled and shoved the door open anyway.

"You have always been a sulky sort, but I do believe this is the first time you have hidden up here for such an age!" Thor exclaimed.

"I am not sulking..." Loki snarled.

"Well, you are either sulking or on your deathbed. No one has fallen victim to a prank for almost a whole day!" Thor laughed, thumping down onto Loki's bed with clear intent to remain there until Loki told him everything.

"Get out!" Loki shouted.

"Remove me...if you can." Thor smirked.

"Ah! Brother I am in no mood for your games!" Loki shouted, before collapsing onto the bed beside Thor.

"Tell me what ails you and we will find the cure!" Thor said, bumping Loki's shoulder.

"The cure would be a bit more rest and some _quiet_." Loki hissed into his bedspread.

"If that is truly the case, I will leave you to your sulking. However, I cannot know the true depth of your terrible malaise unless you give me some clue! I grow tired of waiting for you to emerge!" Thor shouted, his volatile temper finally flaring.

With another heavy sigh Loki relented rather than enter a shouting match with his brutish brother. No one ever won such a contest with Thor, least of all him, and angering his brother always resulted in the destruction of something large and valuable. At least this way his bedroom might actually survive the conversation.

"Fine, but it is nothing of any concern. A maid I have sought has spurned me, nothing more." Loki lied.

"Oh no, not again! I did not know you had pursued anyone since Amora." Thor mused, genuinely sympathetic. Loki rolled his eyes.

"None not already enamored of _you_." Loki muttered. Thor ignored him.

"Well, perhaps you were too rough with the lass. Even Asgard maidens are easily intimidated by a prince you know..." Thor suggested.

"I sincerely doubt that. She is not...the fragile sort." Loki said, the greatest understatement of an age.

"Not fragile...you aren't coveting Sif are you?"

"NO!"

"Well then perhaps her family has promised her hand to another and, despite her feelings, she had cause to object. The whole idea is old fashioned, but it happens all the time." Thor suggested.

"Perhaps you are right, she is greatly invested in performing her given duty." It was the truth, sort of.

"Ah! Those sort of women are the worst kind! Heavily invested in oaths taken to family, they have no sense of adventure. You are lucky to have escaped such a romance." Thor said with a smile.

"I do feel somewhat lucky to have escaped, there can be no doubt of that." Loki muttered. Thor raised an eyebrow.

Loki still wondered why the whole ordeal had upset him so much. Truly, his awkward seduction could not have worked any better had he planned it for weeks! Heimdall, startled by his advance, was distracted from the gate and never detected it's presence. Loki was even spared having to do something that was likely to be painful and definitely far too intimate. He really should be out celebrating with Thor instead of lying under his Yodenheim wolf pelts lost in dark thoughts. Thor was right, he _was _sulking.

"Well...all for the best then! Come drink with me!" Thor roared.

"I cannot bring myself to go with you. Despite it all, I still ache with it, brother. I am surely a fool!" Loki finally admitted.

"No Loki, you are many things, most of them odd, but no one would ever call you a fool. Perhaps you really love the girl..."

"I...I hope not." Loki whispered.

"I myself have loved many women, all of them exquisite, but I am not sure if I have ever been in love. Father says the feeling is something like a sickness, like a fever that drives you to delirium every time you are out of you beloved's presence." Thor mused.

"Sounds pleasant." Loki sneered. Thor shrugged.

"That part I would have no qualm with avoiding, but Father also says that when you are with her, your love, you feel the purest joy. He says it is like the warmth of all the stars and the crispness of snow in one, every joy ever felt before combined into a single, perfect bliss." Thor explained.

"You have felt such a thing?" Loki asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"No. I do not believe I have, though perhaps I might have felt it and mistaken the sensation for something else. I have known pleasures of every kind, but nothing so powerful. I have had many lovers, but my romances have a strong tendency not to last. Have you ever been in love?" Thor asked.

"I...I am not sure. I was infatuated with Amora and lay awake many nights with thoughts of her, but my affection was never returned and so the obsession turned sour in my heart. I think I have felt the sickness that Father spoke of, but never the joy..." Loki replied.

"Well, you are a better man than I at least!" Thor exclaimed with a smile.

"At least one more cursed with misfortune."

"Bah, Loki! Must you always turn apples to lemons? Your misfortunes are all your own doing anyway! All women hate to be lied to!" Thor snarled.

"What makes you think I lie to my lovers?"

"Because you lie to_ everyone_!"

"I do not. Anyway, how could a woman know if they are being lied to better than anyone else?" Loki asked, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Brother, it is not the act of the lie itself, but the way one must retreat while doing it. A lie is like a shield, a barrier from your true self. Women can sense such things and feel cheated by them. After all, their hearts could be bare before you, while you are still cloaked in your precious lies. A fair exchange has not been made! It is this that all females hate." Thor explained pompously, pointing his finger to emphasize the lesson. Loki rolled his eyes.

"So, by your reckoning, one must lay their soul bare before every lover." Loki said, dubious.

"Yes, Loki, that is kind of the point."

"How can you bear to be so...so vulnerable?" Loki exclaimed, mildly horrified.

"It is a risk. Father says it is the greatest risk and requires the deepest courage. I have more courage than any foe, even love! Thus, it is no great wonder I love often. The question is, is the damsel worth the risk? Is it worth it to stand before her as your true self, knowing she might scorn you?" Thor asked.

"Such scorn would be painful to bear." Loki mused, his own ache suddenly seeming far less surprising.

"Yes, but if the risk bear fruit..."

"I do not know..."

"Trust me brother. The key to a maiden's heart is not always strength, but sometimes a bit of vulnerability." Thor winked.

"Vulnerability..." Loki mused.

OoOoOoO

"I..." Loki muttered as he threw the wolf pelt over his shoulders, "...am totally out of my mind."

The hour was late, the deepest part of the night, and Asgard was dark and very quiet. As softly as he walked, Loki felt as though his steps echoed loudly through the empty streets, as if the city itself were frowning upon him. The stables were warm against his night chilled skin and his mount as vexed as ever by another midnight ride. Loki did not pause to think. If he did, the young god was sure he would start giggling like some sort of madman or weep or recover his missing brain and return to his bedchamber. Loki saddled his giant steed with the confidence of one who had known horses all his life and focused on the leather and buckles instead of his surging thoughts. What did he hope to achieve by this exactly? What was the motivation? In truth, the god of mischief did not know and that truth deeply frightened him. He was not a man to act without thought, without a plan, and still he mounted the horse and rode into the frigid night.

The air was almost like a solid thing, so bone achingly cold that the horse's breath appeared in great plumes only to fly back as fine snow. Clad lightly though he was, Loki barely felt the cold. Even as a child the prince had never been bothered much by it and now, with his mind so filled with turmoil, the deep chill of the night barely touched him. It seemed like only a moment of riding passed before the steady click of his steed's feet upon the bifrost startled Loki from his thoughts. Ahead of him, the dimensional gate glowed a warm and welcoming gold against the frozen stars beyond. Loki swallowed hard and gently urged his mount into a more sedate pace. The giant horse, accustomed to approaching the gate only in times of urgency, tossed its head in annoyance at being made to walk.

The prince licked his lips and stilled the nervous drumming of his fingers upon the saddle as the gate house rose up before him like the galactic sentinel it was. Thor, for all his stupidity, had been right to say that such an act took terrible courage. Still, Loki seriously doubted that Thor had ever approached anyone half so formidable as Heimdall with his heart bare and his soul shaking. Heimdall, no doubt, already knew he was here and was choosing to remain within the warmth of the chamber rather than meet him on the gate. The action, or rather lack of one, was telling...the Guardian was waiting to see what Loki would do, how far he would go. The young god straightened his shoulders and climbed from the horse without a sound as his bare feet struck the cold smoothness of the rainbow bridge. It was time to see if the god of lies could still remember how to tell the truth and if, as Thor had implied, the reward would be worth the risk.

OoOoOoO

Heimdall watched Loki approach, the stars and their politics wholly forgotten in the face of such a singular sight. The prince wore nothing save a wolf pelt thrown about his shoulders and a linen wrap around his waist. Though the cloth was long, the added fabric did nothing to diminish the graceful slimness of Loki's hips or the pleasing shape of his legs, both usually obscured by his armor. The midnight blue fabric fell in sensual pleats all the way to his bare feet as Loki stepped from the horse, obscuring and revealing at once. The sight was enough to take Heimdall's breathe away and if the Guardian had been swayed before, now he stood totally transfixed. As was the custom of Asgard royals, Loki also wore his warded bracers and jeweled belt, guards against harm while the prince slept. Though it was not their purpose, the jeweled accoutrements only served to make the prince look even more sensual. What business Odin's son could have dressed in such a way, clearly having just come from his bed, Heimdall did not know. All the Guardian knew was that the sight was intoxicating and that he was as thrilled as much as unsettled by his midnight visitor.

Clad only in his night clothes, Loki looked almost exactly like one of the young sacrifices that had once been offered to the gods. Young men and women of rare beauty, dressed to entice, and then slaughtered before his far-seeing eyes as gifts or bribes...it was an atrocity Heimdall had not even shared with Odin. The humans and their primitive foolishness had not been the business of Asgard, but Heimdall had been shocked to see it. Yet something in the way Loki looked tonight, so like the lovely sacrifices of ancient days, set Heimdall's blood ablaze. The prince's wicked beauty was always evident, but tonight it was practically driving the guardian mad.

Loki entered the gatehouse and paused as he met Heimdall's eyes. The youth's dark hair was wild and windblown, framing his face in waves instead of oiled and combed back as usual. His pale chest looked as cool and flawless as fine marble and Heimdall could not forget the chilly smoothness of Loki's flesh. The young god's cheeks were flushed with cold and exertion from his ride, his blue eyes hooded and unsure. So gorgeous, so vulnerable...Heimdall fought hard to keep his expression neutral, to remain aloof when every sensual line of Loki's body called to be ravished. Though he tried to keep the heat from his face, the battle was lost. As darkly beautiful as Loki's face, hair and form were, it was his bare feet that the Guardian could not seem to ignore. The way the prince stood, unflinching, upon the cold floor without the protection of boots or even a slipper...

"The hour is late my Prince." Heimdall breathed and it sounded more like a sigh.

"It is." Loki replied as he moved forward on his uncannily naked feet.

"Is there yet another event in the nebula this night or do you have a different purpose?" Hemidall asked, raising an eyebrow though his blood was thundering in his veins.

"No, the nebula is still tonight...I..." Loki bit his lip, "I must ask you a question..."

"Ask anything." Heimdall whispered, his surprise slowing his words. Of all the things he had expected Loki to say, such a simple request was not among them.

"The night before...I...I...I am sorry...I don't..." Loki stuttered, his cheeks flushing even deeper red.

Heimdall was stunned, he had never seen Loki so unguarded.

For once, the prince of the silver tongue struggled for what to say and the most peculiar part of it all was that Heimdall was positive that none of it was false...that the god of lies now stood before him with only the truth. The thought was humbling, even a little intimidating, but the roar in his blood did not cease. If anything, the prince's struggle made Heimdall want him all the more.

"It is alright..." Heimdall began, but stopped when he saw the glimmer of tears shining in Loki's eyes.

"What is wrong with me? Why does no one want me? What is it about me that drives everyone away?" Loki practically snarled, his shoulders shaking in anger.

"Loki..."

"You are but one of many who have pushed me away and...and I would hear it for myself. Am I so wanting? Am I so repulsive?" Loki shouted, his chest heaving in a rage long buried.

"Far from it...you...you do not even know how long I have desired you!" Heimdall exclaimed, utterly shocked by the outburst.

"You flatter, but it is still false! I must know! Why...What did I do?" Loki asked, his fierceness melting again into uncertainty.

"I take no lover who does not want me in return," Heimdall said, his own temper rising, "I'll be no one's fool! Not even yours!"

"It is I who was made the fool!" Loki hissed.

"I could see the fear in your eyes! I won't take a lover to my bed by force, not even one as tempting as you, my prince." Heimdall said softly, his anger fading in the face of Loki's pain.

"It is true...I was afraid...I...I...have never...you see...I...never..." Loki mumbled biting his lip again. Heimdall's golden eyes widened.

"You have never lain with a man before?" Heimdall whispered, his surprise making him blunt.

"No. Never." Loki replied, the truth falling awkwardly, like pebbles, from his lips.

"Your boldness made me think...well...it is I who was foolish." Heimdall said, straightening.

"You...you don't...you want me still?" Loki asked, the dread so clear in his blue eyes that it broke Heimdall's heart.

"I do. More than I have wanted anything in an age or more...but I would not force you. It is a difficult thing to accept love such as I can offer you. It is not the same as being loved by a woman and there is pain..." Heimdall cautioned.

"I am not so weak as to shrink from such things." Loki whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion.

"You may not even know of what you speak..." Heimdall cautioned, but the words died in his throat at the look in Loki's blue eyes.

The prince looked feral in a way that Heimdall was certain he had never revealed to anyone else. Loki's usually masked blue eyes were hot and piercing like the gaze of some arctic predator and their gaze sent a bolt of hot desire shooting through the elder god's skin like cosmic fire. Before him stood a man revealed for the first time in all his fiercest splendor, filled with both lust and fear in equal measure. The combination was magnetic. Loki's body moved with the supple grace of a cat as he shed the pelt and moved a step closer to Heimdall.

"I know." He said into the air between them. It was enough.

OoOoOoO

Loki trembled beneath Heimdall's hot hands, his skin tingling against the wolf pelt beneath them as the Guardian explored his skin. He did not dare to think too much, to wonder and weigh how such a reckless act of passion could cost him. The elder god knelt just behind him, close enough that he could feel the heat of Heimdall's naked skin against his thighs. The Guardian's hands on his skin looked so dark, elegant fingers the color of ebony wood on his pale chest. Heimdall tongued his shoulder roughly as his hands splayed over Loki's slender hips, holding the prince before him as he ran his teeth over Loki's frantic pulse. With a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, Loki leaned his head to the side and gave in to Heimdall's caresses. They sat, straining in one another's arms, like a pale comet couched in the darkest space. Loki felt the hot, hardness of Heimdall's arousal and his heart skipped a beat. He was bigger than the younger god had thought.

"Afraid?" Hemidall rumbled against his neck.

"No." Loki replied and did not trust himself to elaborate.

Heimdall tipped Loki's chin and claimed his mouth in a heavy kiss, his tongue surging past the younger god's lips, his hands holding Loki against his chest and toying with the Prince's pale nipples. Loki gasped against the Guardian's mouth as the erotic fire of the touch surged into his belly and lower. Heimdall touched him roughly, coaxing the soft nubs into rigidness, rubbing until Loki was ruddy and panting. The young god felt caught against Heimdall, as if held by some powerful predator and he could do nothing, but moan and writhe against him.

Heimdall savored Loki's awkward struggle with a deep purr that sent chills through the pale god's heated body. The Guardian had barely touched him and yet he was so hard that a deep and steady throb was already settling into his manhood. Heimdall's mouth moved lower down Loki's back, biting roughly into his muscles and _pulling_ in the most terrible and wonderful way Loki had ever felt. The older god made him feel sensitive, aroused and yet submissive at the same time, open and vulnerable. A deep tremor filled the core of Loki's bones as Heimdall brushed his roughened thumb over the tip of his aching body, rubbing the moisture there over his swollen head. He had never been touched so knowingly, so purposefully.

He molded his body back against the dark Guardian and felt Heimdall's heavy erection against his ass. Fear crawled into his mind. For a moment he wanted to move away, to regain his space, but one of Heimdall's large hands was around his wrist and the other around his penis moving in strong, maddening strokes. Molten pressure was building deep in his belly and Loki's breath hitched again as Heimdall's strong lips moved over the tender pulse point in his captured wrist. He was falling, diving into the heat, his control cracking.

"Oh...Oh...Ahh...I...I can't...Ahhh!" Loki wasn't sure what he wanted to say, but only primal sound came out.

"Relax, beautiful Prince, you will be mine this night." Heimdall growled softly, his hand slowly squeezing Loki's hot flesh like a vice.

Pleasure so intense that it was almost pain burned through the younger god and before his vision cleared of it, Loki was astride Heimdall, seated in the large god's lap and powerless to leave it. Heimdall's heavy thighs where hot and velvety against his legs, spreading him with the sheer size of his dark lover. A bolt of panic surged through Loki's brain only to be melted as the Guardian coaxed from his captive body the strongest orgasm Loki had ever experienced. Milky seed shot over Heimdall's hand as the guardian snarled his satisfaction against Loki's jaw, his teeth grazing the flesh there possessively. Loki cried out, throwing his head back against Heimdall's hard shoulder, writhing against the older gods clever hand.

Their bodies glistened with sweat, moving against each other in slippery harmony. Loki's smooth, cool flesh against Heimdall's chest was slowly eroding the Guardian's control. There would be bruises on Loki's wrist and upon his neck as well, but the youth felt nothing but the firm thrum of pleasure vibrating through his body. When Heimdall moved his hand, coated in Loki's own essence, between the firm cheeks and into his most intimate place, the pale god quivered, but made no move to resist.

"Relax. Let it happen." Heimdall instructed and Loki could only nod, too overcome to speak.

Heimdall rubbed the virgin flesh, his slick thumb working against Loki. The pleasure was odd, stimulating and very, very intimate. He had never felt so vulnerable and yet his body was still loose and warm from his previous release. With a heavy breathe, Loki moaned and relaxed against it, shocked when the very tip of Heimdall's thumb slipped in.

"Careful Prince, too eager..." Heimdall purred, as his other hand forced Loki's head down against the pelt.

Despite his words, the Guardian did not remove his hand. He pushed, slow and deep, into the untouched opening, rubbing as he went. Loki gasped and struggled, but Heimdall's dark hand upon his neck stilled him. The feeling was odd, full and a bit painful, like hot water against raw skin. Loki squeezed his eyes shut, gasping hard through his nose. By the heavens, what was he about to _do_? His body was aching with the fullness of Heimdall's thumb within him and he could not even tell how far the elder god had pushed.

Heedless of Loki's fear, Heimdall moved his hand, rubbing in a firm circle, opening the tight flesh. Loki opened his eyes as the dull ache subsided into a deep and very intimate pleasure as Heimdall stretched him. Loki lost himself to the sensation and moaned again. The Guardian removed his thumb and added two fingers as Loki jerked again beneath him.

"Be still." He growled and Loki shivered at the sound.

Loki gasped as Heimdall touched something hot and electric within him, sending shocks of white hot pleasure directly to his brain. The pale god was so overwhelmed by the electric pleasure that he practically screamed as Heimdall curled his fingers and pressed against the tender nerves. Loki's hands dug deep into the pelt, grasping the fur as pleasure thundered through his body again, more powerful than he had ever known. The guardian stroked Loki's prostrate with every thrust of hi fingers, stretching him as Odin's son shrieked and writhed against him.

"It is time." Heimdall said, his deep voice strained with passion.

Some part of Loki's heated brain wanted to protest, but the words never made it to his lips. The blunt head of Heimdall's arousal pressed against him and kept pressing. Loki groaned as the larger god entered him, filling his body and stretching the tender flesh to it's limit. Heimdall sighed at the tight warmth of Loki's virgin body, even as the younger god grunted with intimate pain. He was full, so full, and Heimdall was filling him further. A heavy, burning ache filled his lower body until Loki's knees were trembling with it. He gasped, but the pain only grew as Heimdall sheathed himself fully in Loki's inexperienced body. Loki hissed and tried to move, to escape the terrible ache, but Heimdall's hand was still firmly on his neck. Cold sweat misted his trembling limbs as Heimdall moved, stretching the burning flesh. Loki bit his lip, determined not to scream, to relax...

Heimdall's big hands moved over his lower back, massaging the shaking muscles until he could breathe again. The guardian was still, letting his lover adjust until Loki's breathing slowed and then he was moving again. Loki gasped in surprise as erotic pressure surged through his groin. Heimdall was no longer merely touching the sensitive nerves within him, but pounding against them. Pleasure so all encompassing that Loki barely noticed the sound he was making until echoes were already ringing in his ears surged through his flesh. His mind, his soul, his vision never cooled enough to clear and Heimdall pounded into him, striking the place every time. Loki's nerves where on fire, his flesh stinging with the power of the pleasure, the pelt rough beneath his knees. With a feirce grunt Heimdall moved them until Loki was splayed over his knees again and the younger god threw his head back and shrieked with the force of the feeling.

No one, nothing had ever touched him like this...so deep, so strong. He panted as Heimdall thrust beneath him, his body like a paper doll upon a boiling sea, his soul scalded with the intensity of the pleasure. Heimdall moaned and the sound filled his bones and set them shaking. The elder god tensed beneath him, gathering his muscles like a cat to pounce and pouring heat deep into Loki's flushed body. It was moments or hours or even a thousand years and Loki did not know which, but when he came again it was with Heimdall's teeth hard against his neck.


End file.
